Dirty Little Promise

by Kendall Ryan

  Now was the moment where it all hung in the balance.

  Yes or no.

  Rather than answering me, Emma reached for the door handle, opened it, and then slid from her seat.

  I stared after her, wondering if I’d blown it, but then she looked at me through the open car door with a shy smile that made my cock pulse with need.

  “Are we going to talk about it, or not?”

  • • •

  Emma

  Rubbing my hands along my upper arms to fight off the chill, I led Gavin inside my neat little home. Once we’d removed our shoes by the door, he followed me into the family room in the back, and I waved him to the cream-colored sofa.

  I flipped on the switch for the gas fireplace in front of the sofa and waited as it flickered before it finally came to life. As much as I longed to replace this with a wood-burning fireplace like was originally in the home, the convenience of it couldn’t be beat.

  “Are you cold?” Gavin patted the cushion beside him.

  “A little.” I joined him on the couch, tucking myself into his side, allowing him to stroke my arms, my hair, warming me and soothing me so sweetly.

  “Are you still upset?”

  I shook my head. “I feel for Cooper, but I have you now. So . . .” It was hard to feel sad when I was here in Gavin’s arms, as terrible as that sounded.

  “You do, you know. Have me.”

  “My person, right?” I smiled up at him.

  He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my lips. “Of course.”

  “Dinner was . . . good tonight. Thank you for bringing me.”

  “I was happy you came. Quinn’s an excellent cook.”

  As much as I loved this softer side of Gavin, and his concern about making sure I felt comfortable with him, I gathered my courage to ask what he meant in the car about needing more from me.

  I slid back a fraction from his embrace, wanting to be able to see into his eyes while we spoke. “Can we talk about what you mentioned in the car? Tell me what you want.”

  Gavin’s hazel eyes locked on mine, and I had to remember to draw a breath. “I need more, pet.”

  “More?” I had no idea what kind of more he was referring to.

  “First, you’ll address me as sir.”

  He stroked my cheek with his warm fingertip. His breathing was slow and controlled, his movements deliberate. I sensed a crackling in the air between us.

  “More, sir?”

  “Yes.” He stroked my skin again, and I melted into his touch. “More control. More of you. More of everything.”

  Pleased to see his expression was relaxed, playful even, I ventured another question. “Do you desire dominance and submission? Whips and chains?”

  “I think you know that I’m dominant, and that I require your submission.”

  My brain wandered back to the day in the library where he’d taken me in my office. “Yes, sir.” I did know that, intimately.

  “But toys aren’t really my thing. I don’t need more than my body and yours to bring us both to ecstasy, don’t you agree?”

  I nodded, careful not to ruin this moment. Anytime Gavin opened up to me was a precious gift, one I cherished.

  Gavin stroked my hair again, making me feel so precious and cared for. “Thank you for choosing me tonight.”

  I nodded. “It was always you.”

  Pressing his lips to mine, he smiled. “That makes me very happy, pet.”

  “Do you want me to be your submissive?” I recalled the way he’d said that Ashley was his last submissive.

  Gavin shook his head. “You’re so much more than that.”

  His words sent warmth straight to my heart. “Is Ashley why you wouldn’t let yourself take me how you wanted?”

  He nodded. “Not until you knew everything, until you were the one to decide.”

  The meaning behind his words, his sweet gesture, meant more to me than anything. Gavin craved control, but in this moment, he was giving it to me—I alone held the power to say yes to this, to him. In that moment, I accepted him so fully, it hurt. I ached for him and would have given him anything just then.

  Feeling stupid, I asked, “So, um, is there some kind of contract, or . . .”

  He chuckled at me, his expression amused. “No, we don’t need a contract, Emma.”

  Maybe that kind of stuff was only in books. But, seriously, how the heck was I supposed to know? Everything about this man and our rocky relationship was new to me.

  “I would like to try,” I murmured.

  “Come.”

  I rose from the couch, following as he led me to my bedroom. I sensed his entire mood had shifted. Gavin was letting me in—yet again, offering me a piece of himself, and all my senses were humming.

  My heart beat wildly in my throat, and my adrenaline soared.

  I had no idea what to expect.

  I couldn’t help but notice Gavin’s need for extra control came at a time when things outside the bedroom were more tumultuous than ever—the firing of a key member of his staff, the reputation of his company on the line, the quiet heartbreak we both knew Cooper was suffering. I doubted this was a coincidence, and if Gavin needed to work out his demons on me—I was his.

  Entering my bedroom, I turned on the small lamp on my dresser as Gavin’s gaze swept around the room. My neatly made bed was dressed simply in white organic-cotton sheets. My bedside table held a huge stack of books, and there was a nearly overflowing laundry basket beside my dresser. There was nothing fancy or elegant about it, but somehow, I knew instinctually that those qualities that made me me were what Gavin adored most.

  Unsure what to do, I took a deep breath.

  “Kneel,” he said sternly.

  Without hesitation, I lowered my body until my knees made contact with the rug. Gavin’s wide stance and his hazel eyes were so sexy as he gazed down on me, and I waited, wondering what might happen next.

  Chapter Nine

  Gavin

  Emma knelt before me, and predictably, that simple act of obedience sent blood rushing to my groin. Her eyes were wide and locked onto mine, and her breathing was shallow, coming in soft little pants as she waited patiently to see what would happen next.

  “You’re flushed. Are you scared?” I asked softly.

  She shook her head. “I want to please you, sir.”

  I stroked her hair. “That’s good.” As long as she felt safe and comfortable with me, I’d continue pushing her. “Now, take out my cock.”

  I wasn’t asking. It was a command.

  Without hesitation, Emma tugged and released my belt buckle before I shoved my jeans and black boxer briefs down my thighs, exposing my rigid shaft and my balls. I was ready, heavy, and rock hard for her already.

  She gripped me tightly in one hand and brought her mouth to my broad tip, treating it to a slow, wet kiss.

  I let out a hiss.

  Stroking me with both hands, she closed her mouth around me, earning another murmured grunt of satisfaction that came from deep within my chest.

  I stroked her hair, gazing down on my pet with adoring eyes. “Mine.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her mouth full of me. “Yours, my sir.”

  “Fuck.” My murmured curse only spurred her on.

  Most girls were timid, shy when it came to sucking cock, but not sweet little Emma Bell. She took all nine inches like a champ, her fist pumping my shaft, the fingers of her other hand lightly stroking my balls. Those were usually ignored, women were afraid to hurt them, and yet Emma handled them perfectly. But she needed to slow down or I was going to lose it faster then I wanted to.

  It felt so good, I didn’t want to stop her, but I had to. “On your feet,” I said, my voice cool and commanding, but my heartbeat was fucking racing.

  Emma lifted herself gracefully from the floor and stood before me. She was so petite in her bare feet, barely clearing my chin, and the dominant side of me enjoyed towering over her.

  “Strip for me.”
>
  Without hesitation, Emma released the little gold buttons between her breasts and drew her red silk top over her head, dropping it beside her feet. Next, she shimmied her hips, pushing her jeans down until she stepped out of them, leaving them in a pile with her discarded top.

  She stood before me wearing a black lace bra and a matching thong. Reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra, Emma let it fall to the floor.

  I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how exquisite she was. Her tits were round and perky, her nipples a pale peach color. She was perfection. I wanted to lick and suck and fuck her breasts, but I maintained my composure.

  Tilting her mouth to mine, I pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and ran my fingers along the column of her lovely neck, down over her breasts. When I reached the flat of her belly, I hooked my thumbs into the sides of her panties and drew them down over her hips and legs until they were free. Balling her panties in my fist, I brought them to my nose and inhaled.

  She smelled so sweet, making all the synapses in my brain fire at once, reminding me of how good she tasted. But that would have to wait. I needed to be inside her—like yesterday. She was my one weakness, and I was done waiting.

  My cock throbbed with need. “On the bed,” I said, my voice ragged.

  Emma walked across the room and sat on the edge of her neatly made bed. She was following my orders to a tee, and my cock wept in anticipation.

  “Lay back, wrists above your head, legs apart,” I demanded, and my little pet obeyed like it was her job.

  Christ. That did something to me.

  I stripped my shirt off over my head and let my jeans drop to the floor. Once I was undressed, I knelt before her parted legs on the mattress.

  Emma reached toward me, her fingertips grazing my abs. My cock hung like a heavy pipe between us, but she ignored it for now.

  It was strange to realize that the things I appreciated most about her—her femininity, her softness, her supple curves, were the same things she loved about me, the masculinity, the hard planes of my body.

  I shook my head. “Keep your hands above your head. Don’t make me restrain you.”

  I was certain she had a pair of nylons in her drawer that would work nicely, but Emma changed course and brought her hands together above her head, which thrust her breasts up and out for my perusal.

  “Good girl.”

  When I grazed her inner thigh in a move meant to tease, Emma quivered beneath my touch. Finding her already wet for me between her legs, I pushed one finger into her snug channel, and she whimpered. As I pressed my thumb against her clit each time I pushed my finger in and out, she let out a broken sob.

  I felt her trembling, her pussy tightening around my finger already, and knew she was dangerously close.

  Welcome to the club, sweetheart.

  “Don’t,” I warned, my voice a harsh pant. “I want to be inside you when you come.” Withdrawing my finger, I leaned down to press a chaste kiss against her swollen little clit.

  Emma shuddered beneath me, letting out a groan. “Need you now,” she whispered.

  Drawing up so I was on my knees before her, I aligned my swollen, needy cock with that beautiful place between her legs. Parting her puffy lips with the head of my cock, I worked myself back and forth over her wet pussy.

  In a breathy voice, she asked, “Condom?”

  We locked eyes, and for a moment, time stopped.

  “I want to feel you,” I whispered, my voice uneven.

  The look in her eyes confirmed her trust in me. She knew I’d never put her at risk, and she was right about that. I was clean, and I also knew from spying them in her toiletry bag in her suite in Florida that she took birth control pills, so that wasn’t an issue either.

  For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and I wondered if Emma assumed, rather incorrectly, that I’d slept with the escorts I employed. That wasn’t the case. Since I didn’t want to get tangled up with a woman who couldn’t handle my dark desires, I’d chosen to remain mostly celibate, only straying when my body couldn’t take the pressure any longer.

  “Yes,” she finally whispered.

  My mouth attacked hers again in a rush of hungry kisses. Without further invitation, I pressed forward, invading her inch by delicious inch. She was so hot, so perfect, I let out a groan, and she sucked in a ragged breath, taking a moment to accommodate my size.

  Resting my forehead against hers, I kissed her parted lips. “So perfect.”

  “Don’t hold back,” she whispered.

  “You sure?”

  Emma bit her lower lip, her front teeth sinking into the plump flesh. “I want it. All of it.”

  It was all the invitation I needed.

  I held her hips, slamming home again and again, not slowing, not showing any mercy. She felt like heaven, and I couldn’t even be bothered with the fact that she’d likely have fingertip bruises tomorrow where I gripped her.

  Goose bumps peppered her creamy flesh as she murmured, “Don’t stop,” somehow reading my mind. “There. Right there,” she said on a groan.

  She was built for me . . .

  So wet.

  So tight.

  So giving.

  So mine.

  Letting me take everything I wanted, and still, she whimpered for more.

  With her pulse jumping in her throat, Emma cried out my name.

  My jaw flexed. I wanted to memorize this moment. I wanted to devour every jagged breath, every quavering word she whispered. Her cries were like a litany of prayers, and I wanted to grant her each one.

  The universe shrank to just this moment—just her and me and the needy sounds of our bodies. I felt unworthy of her trust and devotion, but wanted them all the same.

  Emma moaned. “Can I touch you now, sir?”

  “Thank you for asking so nicely, but no,” I grunted out. “Stay just like you are.”

  Intoxicated by her, I kissed every inch of skin I could reach, nibbling her delicate collarbone, licking the spot on her neck where her pulse rioted.

  Grinding desperately against me now, Emma murmured my name over and over. She was crazed with want, and I fed on her, loving everything about this moment.

  She was perfection.

  Palming her round ass, I rocked into her harder, taking what was mine. Again. And again.

  I wanted to do more than dominate her, wanted so much more. I wanted to take her to the theatre, to take her to brunch, fuck, I even wanted to meet her parents. Of course, I also wanted to fuck her six ways from Sunday. And my obedient little pet wanted to give me all of that too. Recalling how she’d asked if she’d become my submissive, I inwardly chuckled. No, she was so much more.

  Her needy murmurs spurred me on and I pumped harder, lifting her thigh and securing it around my hip so I could press in even deeper.

  “Gavin,” she cried. “I’m going to come soon.”

  Taking her bare, feeling her milk my cock, it was everything. I wouldn’t last much longer either.

  “You don’t have to ask, pet.” I angled my hips, hitting that blissful place inside her repeatedly in a punishing rhythm. “Get it, baby girl.”

  That was her undoing. Emma writhed and bucked beneath me, her body tightening around me to the point of pain.

  Tilting her face up to mine, I took her lips. “I love watching you come for me, pet.”

  My cock jerked and without warning, I began to ejaculate—hot and deep within her.

  We came together in a hot, sticky rush. My climax was hard and fast, so powerful it made me dizzy. Emma trembled in my arms, crying out my name one last time as I filled her.

  Afterward, I moved from the bed and retrieved a warm cloth from the bathroom to clean her of the mess I’d made between her legs. I loved seeing her marked with my ejaculate, but I lovingly wiped away each and every trace from her skin.

  Emma rolled onto her side, and I tucked her beneath the blankets, lying down beside her. We didn’t speak, but we didn’t have to.

  This was
just the beginning. She’d chosen me, understood my needs.

  Now nothing would stop me from making her mine.

  Chapter Ten

  Emma

  The next morning, I woke to find a note on the pillow beside me in Gavin’s untidy scrawl.

  Had to go. Press conference this morning. Last night was amazing.

  — G

  It read more like a memo than a love note, but I still clutched it to my chest and rolled over, thinking again of the night before. I’d been unsure at first what exactly he was asking for, but the second we entered my bedroom and his rough voice was commanding me, it was like the whole world melted away and I was all his to mold and shape and please.

  And God, had he pleased me.

  A little thrill shot down my spine and I shifted in bed, slightly sore, but happier than I’d been in a long time.

  Maybe when his conference was over, he’d come back and we could continue where we left off.

  Gavin had said he wanted more, but then, so did I. But the thought of telling him what I needed scared the ever-loving crap out of me. How would he react?

  I racked my brain, trying to think of a way to tell him of the affections I craved.

  Cuddling on the couch? Yes, please.

  Soft, stolen kisses against my lips and neck? Always.

  More quiet moments with him at home? Anytime.

  But I couldn’t wrap my head around how I’d approach the topic without sounding like a needy girlfriend.

  If there was one thing I knew about Gavin, it was that he needed control. He wouldn’t respond to commands in the same way I did, with the obedience and acceptance of a loving partner. This man was broken. He didn’t know love. Not in the way that I did, with two loving parents and an easy upbringing. He had never witnessed a healthy, loving adult relationship, and he didn’t know how to be in one.

  The only way for this to work—for my longings to get through to him—was to show him. I had to show him. By example. By brushing soft kisses against his knuckles when we parted, pressing my mouth to his neck while we made love. And I would have to do the scariest thing of all . . . I needed to be the first to say those three little words that terrified me.